


Come When You Call

by harlequindreaming (armydoctor)



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, M/M, Smut, because i like jim calling seb "tiger", just a little ficlet imported from LJ, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-23
Updated: 2013-04-23
Packaged: 2017-12-09 07:33:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/771655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/armydoctor/pseuds/harlequindreaming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Didn't Mama ever tell you not to fall for the villain? Because villains don't get happy ever afters, Sebby. It's not what they do.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come When You Call

**Author's Note:**

> Short ficlet imported from [my LJ](http://aslowdumbshow.livejournal.com/1238.html). I like when Jim calls Seb a "tiger."

**xxxxxxxxxx**

The first time James Moriarty calls Sebastian Moran a _tiger_ is the first time they meet. Jim's looking for a hitman and Sebastian's just looking for something to pay for his high, and they meet up in the dingy pub Sebastian goes to at night when he can't think of anything else to do - which is almost every night, really. The ex-colonel barges right up to the posh, skinny man in the Armani suit drinking a scotch fifty - because really, who else could his potential employer be, in a place like this? - with all the finesse of a raging, hunting jungle cat, and the consulting criminal decides right then and there that he's going to like this guy. A lot.

Half an hour later, when they're standing atop the roof of an abandoned warehouse, Sebastian shoulders the McMillan Tac50 (a thing of beauty, all sleek metal and shiny gunpowder smell) and punches a clean round right between the eyes of the Consigliere of the Nikitin Mafia, at 1700 range, after being given next to no information on who he is. Jim watches him time the shot between breaths and pulses, watches the minute twitch of his shoulder as he catches the recoil and the smooth roll of his angel bones as he flexes after. Sebastian cocks an eyebrow up and Jim smirks right back down and goes,

_good shot, tiger_

and Sebastian bares his best feral grin, all pointy incisors and a low growl in his throat. It's a partnership made in hellish heaven, signed in marzipan-smelling gun smoke and some Russian guy's blood.

**xxxxxxxxxx**

The first time Jim calls Sebastian a tiger in "bed" is the fifth time they fuck. Sebastian's just come home from a two-week cross-country bounty hunt; he's pissed as hell that his best Paul Smith has been ruined, and some bastard's gone and scratched his Colt M203. Jim's bored and trying to ignore the tiny stab of loneliness in his gut, and on top of it all he's broken into Sebastian's emergency stash of smack. Sebastian's hardly been home two minutes before they're flush against each other, grabbing, tearing, biting, clawing and generally just _taking_ from each other what they haven't had in fourteen and a half days. Sebastian rips every button off Jim's Hugo Boss dress shirt and Jim mouths Sebastian's dog tags like they're his cock. The "bed" has quotation marks because really, Sebastian's just kneeling where the pillows had been with Jim shoved up against the wall, legs around scarred hips, writhing wantonly against the paint job. What tips Sebastian over the edge this time is Jim's breathless moan of

_fuck me, tiger_

and Sebastian growls, drags the chains of his tags a few more times over Jim's length, and both of them come, screaming bloody murder into whatever skin their mouths can reach. It remains, by far, the best shag of Sebastian's life, and for days on end afterward he can't hear Jim call him "tiger" without feeling arousal pool down in his gut.

**xxxxxxxxxx**

The last time Jim calls Sebastian tiger is in his voice mail, minutes after the Reichenbach fall. Sebastian rings his private line, wondering why the hell Jim sent him to do a rifle job in the building across St. Bart's hospital. The day is noisy enough that Sebastian doesn't hear the strains of Staying Alive from the roof opposite him, and so when the call doesn't patch through, he cusses and enters the designated building. On the way up he catches a glimpse of gray Armani suit pants and a familiar black coat - he'd gotten Jim something of the sort last Christmas - atop the hospital roof and resigns himself to the fact that Jim's playing a game with Sherlock. Again. He'll ask what all this crap is about later, then.

When the horribly confusing job is over and he's watched Sherlock Holmes plunge to his death with no small satisfaction (he's fairly disappointed that he's not allowed to kill John Watson, though, but he supposes the pain the poor doctor's feeling will have to do), he packs up and places another call to Jim. Once again, it doesn't go through, and this time clicks straight to voice mail. Sebastian's about to leave an irate message in his Irish twang (just enough to drive Jim both ways of crazy) when he realizes there's a voice recording and Jim's whispering

_goodbye, tiger_

and it's as if he's back in the Middle East with the bombs going off around him: it's the same feeling of the world tumbling from under his feet. He shoves his phone into his pocket, sprints towards the hospital as if he's moving through molasses, and almost splinters the roof door in two as he crashes through it. But there's nothing left except a puddle of blood and the Beretta pistol Jim gave him for his last birthday, abandoned on the concrete. Forcing himself not to think the worst he dials again - voice mail again - _goodbye, tiger -_ and for the last time Sebastian drops to his knees for Jim, not to offer himself up but to bring himself down to the last place James Moriarty had touched.

 _Didn't Mama ever tell you not to fall for the villain?_ the recording had said. _Because villains don't get happy ever afters, Sebby. It's not what they do. But I'm sure you know that by now. I do, too. You're a villain too, aren't you, Sebby? So now you don't get your happy after either._

_Goodbye, tiger._

**xxxxxxxxxx**

**Fin  
**


End file.
